


The Marauders' Code of Honor (and Other Oxymorons)

by sofia_estrella



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 15:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1189965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofia_estrella/pseuds/sofia_estrella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well, we have this deal—the Marauders’ Code of Honor—and we've sworn to not let girls come between us. So, I can’t date you because Peter liked you first, and it’d be messy.”</p><p>I paused for a moment. “But… if Peter stopped liking me, then… we could go out.”</p><p>Sirius laughed and shook his head. “I suppose that would be acceptable.”</p><p>And so began my mission to shake the fancy of one not easily deterred Peter Pettigrew. I should also mention that I was simultaneously trying to win a class election.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Marauders' Code of Honor (and Other Oxymorons)

As soon as I walk into the History of Magic classroom I know that something is different.

 

The other fifth year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors don’t look tired or bored or like they’re preparing to sleep for the next hour or so. Plus, I don’t feel that familiar wave of lethargy that sweeps over me every time I come in here. So, that’s interesting.

 

I sit down next to Dorcas, at the desk in front of James and Sirius, who always stake out the desk in the back. Not that you couldn’t get away with dozing off in the front row. Binns is… well, dead for one thing. And that seems to make him rather less attentive and far less emotionally invested in his professorship than other members of the Hogwarts faculty. For example, McGonagall, who snaps at you if you blink too often.

 

Lily Evans struts by at that moment and I attempt and fail to restrain a scoffing sound. I hear James lift his head off of the desk behind me. Sirius chuckles. Lily throws a contemptuous glance over her shoulder, which is clearly just an excuse to showcase her enviable hair. Honestly, dear—if you’re so aghast at the concept of being fancied by one Mr. Potter, at least make an effort to avoid him, or, you know, stop modeling your admittedly attractive self right in front of him.

 

“It would be more pitiful if it weren’t for those gorgeous eyes of hers…” I say to Dorcas, leaning on her shoulder so I can peer up at her face and bat my eyelashes. Her response, hearty laughter, is very satisfying.

 

Sirius, evidently hearing me, joins in. “Her eyes _are_ beautiful.” He sits up straighter, a hand poised over his heart. “Like blue pools of—”

 

“Her eyes are green,” James snaps, apparently before he can process how sappy that sounds to everyone within earshot. Which is no longer limited to only Dorcas, James, Sirius and me.

 

“Whose eyes are green?” inquires a pleasant and unfamiliar voice. We all glance up, dumbstruck with our mouths open, to find a young witch, probably in her late twenties, standing just inside the door.

 

“Oh, uh, my, uh…” James stammers while she closes the door and swishes up to the front of the room.

 

“I regret to inform you that your Professor is attending a month-long Magical History education board convention in London,” she starts off, with a detectable twinge of sarcasm.

 

“Wow,” I mutter to Dorcas. “There _is_ something more boring than this class.”

 

“So I will be filling in until his return. You can call me Miss Bennett, as I am not a professor. I was a Hufflepuff here at Hogwarts, my favorite color is orange and I’m a Sagittarius. Now that we’ve been properly acquainted…”

 

I shot a look of approval at Dorcas. We haven’t learned a scrap of history so far and this class is already way more interesting than five years of Binns the surprisingly mundane ghost, who refuses even to invent juicy details about his death for the purpose of spicing up the story.

 

Miss Bennett continues and I notice that, hey, this classroom has a window. With a view of the lake! I point this out to Dorcas who expresses that she has also never noticed the fair amount of mid-afternoon light it lets in.

 

“Where did you leave off with Binns?” is the question that finally catches my attention.

 

I groan audibly, and she seems to think this means I’m volunteering myself to answer the question. But she smiled a little at my response, so she’s still in my good books.

 

“I don’t even know,” I answer with exaggerated exasperation. “It was, like, some goblin rebellion—but really, they’re all the same! Some goblin with a name I can’t pronounce but am forced to learn how to spell anyway creates an armed insurrection and a couple wizards are killed and then the goblins are bloodily crushed and tragedy and continuing injustice for non-human species for hundreds of years to come and blah, blah, blah…”

 

“Wow,” Miss Bennett said, looking slightly, but feignedly, startled. “Why don’t you just teach this class?”

 

“Well, I would, but…” I hesitate, mulling over the tempting words in my head… Ah, what the hell… “But I have dignity.”

 

There’s a short burst of shocked laughter, some of it coming from the teacher herself. “What’s your name?” she asks, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

 

Let’s see. I could say Lily Evans. The indignant look on her face would be worth it. The continued confusion of Miss Bennett would just be icing on the cake. Imagine how Lily would react if the month-long substitute took to calling her by my name and me by hers…

 

But I’ve caused a bit of ruckus already, and I wouldn’t mind seeing what Bennett’s got up her sleeves.

 

“I’m Robbin Mitchell,” I tell her, leaning back in my chair.

 

Bennett raises her eyebrows, amused.  I’m already struck with nostalgia at the fact that she’ll only be here a month. Is it a certain thing that there is no way to kill a ghost? Has anyone ever tried, oh, I don’t know… drowning them? Oh, don’t look at me like that. Binns would thank me for freeing him from the eternal damnation of teaching a bunch of snoring kids about elf rights.

 

“Alright, then, Robbin Mitchell,” Bennett says amiably. “What do you think we should study?”

 

I look around at my peers’ expectant faces. “How about we do Minister for Magic elections?”

 

“That would be interesting,” Bennett muses, tapping her chin.

 

“And, by comparison to what we were just learning, well… some of us might actually stay awake for the duration of this class. We should do class elections. And have debates and stuff. That’d be a great way to learn, in a hands-on way.”

 

And, you know, a great way for me to exercise my skill at destroying opponents in said debates.

 

I’m very persuasive, if I do say so myself.

 

Exhibit A: the majority of students are nodding their heads and adding in; yeah, that’d be fun!

 

Exhibit B: Miss Bennett only considers this idea for about thirty seconds before she wholeheartedly agrees.

 

Oh, she has no idea what she’s getting into.

 

* * *

 

Never before have I looked forward to History of Magic class. Okay, maybe to the very first class, first year, but only because I heard the professor was a ghost. Which I thought would be cool. Or even just interesting. Silly me.

 

But today I bolt to class as soon as Charms lets out and am the first one in the door. I quickly realize that this is awkward. Miss Bennett smiles at me.

 

“Robbin, right?”

 

“Yeah. Hi.” I sit down in the same spot I do every day and wait for Dorcas. Or anyone. Even Lily.

 

“I got Dumbledore’s approval for mock Minister elections in class.”

 

“Oh, great.”

 

“Will you run?”

 

“Obviously.” I roll my eyes.

 

She looks mildly amused, but doesn’t say anything as the classroom begins to fill up with students.

 

“Alright, class,” she says as they sit down. Dorcas takes the spot next to me, James and Sirius behind us and Lily a few rows in front of us, as usual. “We’ve only got a month, so I’d like to begin our election process right away. First things first—who would like to run?”

 

I raise my hand, stretching my fingers up toward the ceiling. Surveying the classroom, I notice that Lily, James, Sirius and Ian Cox are also volunteering. Maybe I won’t have the Ravenclaw vote tied up after all… Ian _is_ a prefect… reasonably well-liked. James and Sirius are both incredibly popular, but if both of them are running hopefully that’ll split up their support. But Lily… she’s the only real competition – not only a prefect, but also smart and pretty and popular… Well, I’m smart and pretty and popular, damn it!

 

“What’d you say?” Dorcas whispers, giggling.

 

“Uh, what do you mean?” I say, nervously lowering my still-raised hand and glancing around the room.

 

“You just muttered something about being smart and pretty and popular, damn it.”

 

I shrug. “It’s a pep-talk.”

 

“Unfortunately,” Miss Bennett says, my attention snapping back to her, “I do have to assign some textbook reading.” Page numbers appear on the board as a collective groan arises. “But I’d like the candidates to begin thinking about their platform tonight and be ready for debates tomorrow.”

 

I grin, flipping the textbook to a random page and pretending to read as I begin plotting. I wonder if Dorcas will help me with debate prep tonight… I’ll need someone to play Lily. Hm. Do I have any annoying friends?

 

* * *

 

“Ladies first,” is the first thing Miss Bennett says, the next time we have class. I glance at Lily and graciously nod for her to go before me. She stands up, straightens her skirt and settles in comfortably at the front of the classroom. She looks around at us and smiles calmly before beginning. She thinks she’s so great at public speaking…

 

“My name is Lily Evans and I’m running for our class Minister.”

 

There’s already a burst of applause from her fanclub, starry-eyed Mary McDonald and Marlene McKinnon in the front row.

 

“My platform is to make Hogwarts a more unified and fair place for everyone. I will make Muggle Studies a mandatory course for everyone -- ”

 

I quickly cough to cover up my indignant snort. I have to at least appear respectful of the other candidates.

 

“ -- as well as establishing a ten-hour workday for the Hogwarts house elves.”

 

This time I give up and snicker loudly enough to get glared at by Lily’s fanclub. I can hear Sirius laughing gently from behind me as well.

 

Lily appears a little shaken, but continues. “I will abolish house tables in the Great Hall, to encourage everyone to branch out and make new friends, and I will give prefects the ability to deduct points from other houses as well as their own.”

 

Hm. Maybe she isn’t as big as a threat as I first thought. She’s got awful ideas.

 

“I would be a great Minister because of my natural leadership qualities and experience as a prefect. I love this school and am willing to listen to and work with others to improve it for the future.”

 

Why are people clapping? This is lame. I make my way to the front before the applause is over, effectively cutting it short.

 

“Thank you, Lily, that was… good. My opponent is an idealist, and that’s a great quality to have. But I know what you guys really want, and it’s not being forced to sit next to a creepy Slytherin kid at breakfast. You guys want more Hogsmeade weekends. You want less homework in your OWL and NEWT years -- and, maybe, all the other years as well. You want more Quidditch games! Only six a year is ridiculous, we should _double_ that. You don’t want a prefect from another house arbitrarily deducting points from yours -- instead, we need protection from power-abusing prefects.” I glance at Lily and smile. “I’m Robbin Mitchell, I’m running for class Minister, and I know what you really want.”

 

I return to my seat, trying not to beam outwardly as my round of applause dwarfs Lily’s.

 

Ian goes next, laying out a detailed and intelligent platform. Boring.

 

Sirius goes up for about fifteen seconds, says his name, smiles and winks and sits back down. Not the worst strategy, actually.

 

James gets up, and walks up and down the aisles as he rants about how much of a tightass Filch is and that _someone has got to do something about it_ and _end the oppression_ and _bring fun back to Hogwarts_. Miss Bennett cuts him off after about seven minutes.

 

“So, yeah, I’m James Potter, bringing the fun back to Hogwarts. Also, I’ll _triple_ the number of Quidditch matches.” He grins at me as he makes his way back to his seat.

 

“Alright,” Miss Bennett says, checking the time. “Well, class is almost over. For next time I’d like you all the read chapter four in the textbook and come prepared for a quiz on the first ten Ministers for Magic.”

 

* * *

 

“You’re making campaign posters?”

 

It’s late, almost curfew. I’m in the library, minding my own business, and Sirius Black just has to come up behind me and scare the shit out of me.

 

He grins as I glare at him, then pulls up a chair and sits down. He rest his feet on the table and leans back in his chair so its front two legs are off the ground.

 

“Do you even have a platform?” I ask him, patiently continuing my work of animating a picture of me so that I smile in a way that looks both fun and professional.

 

“Oh, yeah. I definitely have a platform.”

 

“Of course you do.”

 

He leans over and looks at my poster. “That’s a good picture. I’d vote for you.”

 

I take my attention off the poster fully. “Are you flirting with me, Sirius Black?”

 

“Oh, no. I’m definitely not.”

 

I smile. “Of course you aren’t.” After a moment of silence, I continue working on the poster, messing around with the location of my slogan: _What you really want_.

 

“I think you’re probably going to win,” he tells me.

 

“You think? What about Lily?”

 

“Nah, James’s mere presence is always enough to reduce her to a flustered, angrily stammering mess.”

 

I let out a breath of laughter. “Well, we can only hope.”

 

“So you don’t think I’m serious competition?”

 

“Well, serious -- yes. Competition -- no.”

 

“Oh, that’s very clever, I’ve never heard that one before.” He rolls his eyes. “Do you have a campaign manager or anything?”

 

“Well, Dorcas is supposed to be my entire staff, but she doesn’t really do anything. So basically I’m my own staff. Why, are you interested in the job?”

 

“No, you just… take this very seriously. It’s cute.”

 

I refrain from asking if he’s flirting with me again. I think he probably is, but I also think that doesn’t make me special. Not by a long a shot.

 

“Well, I want to go into politics,” I tell him.

 

“You’d be great. What’s your campaign strategy with this one?”

 

I cock my head at him. “Do you know that you’re running against me? Why would I tell you my secrets?”

 

“Because you know I’m not out to sabotage you.”

 

“How would I know that?”

 

“If I was trying to steal your secrets, you wouldn’t be able to see me right now.”

 

“That’s… vaguely creepy.”

 

Sirius looks pensive suddenly. “I like that. Maybe my slogan? Sirius Black: Vaguely Creepy. What do you think?”

 

“It’s refreshingly honest.” All at once everything in my poster falls into place and it looks _fantastic_. I smile and hold it up to get the full effect. “What do you think?”

 

Sirius nods his head. “Yeah, it’s good. I like it. D’you know it’s a bit past curfew now?”

 

“I guess it would be, yeah.”

 

“So… are you going back to Ravenclaw Tower?”

 

“Eventually.”

 

He pauses, nods once and stands up. “Well, goodnight, then, Robbin Mitchell.”

 

“Good night, Sirius Black.”


End file.
